


A Home to Run Away From

by shealynn88



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: F/M, audrey/nathan endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22214395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: Audrey's never really had anything she could call home.
Relationships: Audrey Parker/Nathan Wuornos, Duke Crocker/Audrey Parker
Kudos: 5





	A Home to Run Away From

Duke has a pretty smile and those broken little boy eyes that make her want to fix him—the way she'd always wanted to fix the orphans who needed a home. He's got everything on his side—mystery and a way of making her feel like a lost little girl and an incredibly sexy woman all at the same time. The way he looks at her puts butterflies in her stomach, and she enjoys it as much as it makes her uncomfortable.

And then Nathan pulls out her chair for her, stretching awkwardly, and she forgets about Duke and the way his teeth flash in that careful grin. When Nathan's arm brushes hers, it doesn't give her butterflies, it makes her shiver, right down to the core. That's the difference, she realizes slowly, over that night and the nights to come. Duke makes her feel pretty and wanted, but Nathan makes her feel like she's home.

Sometimes she thinks he's jealous, and obviously Duke does, too, because he makes a show of it every time he pays her a compliment, or touches her back, or raises an eyebrow suggestively at her. But it could just as easily be that Nathan hates Duke with a passion that she may never understand, and anything Duke wants is automatically something he shouldn't have.

Ultimately, that's what decides her. Some sort of horrible, panic-induced logic that tells her that it's better to go to someone you don't love than someone you do, if you can never know for sure that they feel the same. So she lets Duke guide her home to his boat, and he kisses her tears away, and she holds him like he's the only anchor in a treacherous world as what feels like home slips away and the boat rocks softly.

Nathan leaves town for a week for a case, and they aren't partners anymore, suddenly, and she thought she'd be all right with it, but she just feels broken, and she wishes that the gentle rock of the water and a pretty smile were enough to make it better, but it's not, and now there's no anchor at all—just ocean, as far as she can see.

She eats pancakes sometimes, when she misses him most, and one morning he's two tables away. An ocean of choices and possibilities stretch between them, and it doesn't matter because she can't possibly be more humiliated or more hurt than she is already, so she sits down across from him and eats silently.

 _I miss you_ , she tells him, and he never looks up, and, _I'm sorry_ , she whispers and he still doesn't see her, and _I was afraid_ , she says and then, so quietly she's sure only she can hear it, _you were home to me_ , and then she stands up to go because pancakes aren't enough anymore. The ocean rocks beneath her and the waves are getting choppy, like a storm is brewing.

He catches up to her in the street and spins her around cruelly, fingers biting into her arm, and she wonders if he knows that he's hurting her, and she knows that he does because he's always been so careful. _You don't know me_ , he says, and, _stop lying_ , and, _tell Duke to go fuck himself_ , and he chokes on his words and shoves her away, but stays where he is, as if he can't move.

She can. She can run, she can scream, she can go back to the rolling ocean and the disconnect of never feeling like she belongs. But she doesn't, because home is standing in front of her again, and suddenly an ocean doesn't seem too far, and an anchor doesn't seem so safe, and a chance seems suddenly worth taking.

There is no halfway, no easing forward, no checking his face for signs, no questions, no hopes, no preconceived notions. There is only her, closing the gap, and him, seizing her arms and pushing her away and then drawing her in, so close she can barely breathe, crushing her against his chest, his lips, the taste-scent-feel of him kissing her harshly.

 _Nathan_ , she breathes, and he murmurs back her name in such a way that it makes her cry, huge sobs that shake her and make her nose run and make her messy and hideous. He holds her and murmurs her name over and over and laughs gently and tells her she's a mess and she's beautiful and she's his.

And she just nods and smiles and whispers, _I'm home_ , and tries not to get snot on his shirt.


End file.
